Chapter Nineteen #2
“Mark would talk to Jack and me about it, how it felt unfair to him that she was fully on board until it became clear they’d been scammed, and then it was all his fault.
He said they had epic, screaming fights for weeks, until she finally quit talking to him altogether.
That, he said, was a huge relief. He would come over, have a beer with Jack, commiserate on the latest with the investigation.
The three of us became close friends. Like comrades in a war, of sorts. Our war against Ginny.
“And then, when Jack died, Mark helped me with everything—funeral arrangements, estate stuff, lawyers, all of it. He was so there for me in a way my daughter and friends couldn’t be because they were so devastated.
I was so devastated. I found myself turning to Mark for comfort as well as support.
And after a while, I realized I had genuine feelings for him.
I was widowed, and he was basically estranged from his wife…
There’s nothing illicit about our relationship.
We’re two lonely, wounded people finding comfort in each other. ”
“Is there any chance his wife knows you’re more than friends?” Freddie asked.
“I don’t know what she knows. We don’t talk about her. They don’t have the money to get divorced, so they’re forced to live together. From what Mark says, she stays in her part of the house, and he stays in his.”
Sam couldn’t conceive of living like that.
It reminded her too much of her miserable first marriage during which she’d go days without speaking to Peter, usually when he was punishing her for some perceived transgression.
Thinking about that horrible time in her life could always make her feel furious with herself about what she’d put up with for far too long.
“You’re not going to make our relationship public, are you?” Tina asked.
“Not unless it plays into Ginny’s murder in some way.”
“It won’t. Neither of us had anything to gain by killing the only person who knew where the money was stashed.”
As she always did, Sam handed over her business card. “If you think of anything else that might be relevant, call me. No matter how trivial it might seem.”
Tina took the card and got up to show them out.
“We appreciate your time,” Sam said at the door. “And I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Thank you.”
When they stepped outside, the door clicked shut behind them, and the locks reengaged.
“Don’t be envious of people who live in nice neighborhoods like these,” Sam said to Freddie as they walked to the car.
“The beautiful facades often hide the suffering within. People look at someone like Tina living in that beautiful home and think she has it made, when that’s not true.
Her life inside that beautiful home is in ruins. ”
“All because a friend talked her out of her money.”
“I want to know if there’s a video of Ginny’s sales pitch, because if there is, I’d love to see what was so incredibly special about her that she could talk people into parting with their life savings.”
“I’ll check the federal files again to see if there’s anything like that, but I didn’t see anything the first time I looked.”
“I feel like my bullshit-o-meter would be registering in the red zone if she tried to get me to part with my money. Didn’t anyone think, ‘Hey, maybe this is a massive con’?”
“You would have because you’re preconditioned to think the worst of people. Someone like Tina, she doesn’t think that way. She hasn’t seen what you have.”
“True.” Sam glanced at the clock, which inched closer to noon. When she thought of how many hours she had to get through before she could go home… Ugh. And tonight was the grief group, too. Double ugh. “Me and my big ideas.”
“Which big idea are we lamenting now?”
“The grief group.”
“I thought you were excited about that.”
“I’m as excited as it’s possible to be about grief, but it’s going to keep me at work late tonight, which means no time with the kids. I hate that.”
“You’ve become such a mommy.”
“Sometimes, I think I suck at it. I’m gone more than I’m home.”
“You don’t suck at it. You love them, and they know that.”
“Still, I feel like they deserve better than what they get from me most days.”
“Sam, come on. You have the kind of job that takes a ton of mental energy and time. They know that. They don’t want anything more than your love, which is so much more than what many kids have. It’s the most important thing you can give them.”
“More important than my time?”
“They have what they need—a safe, loving home, and they’re surrounded by people who’d do anything for them. They’re lucky kids, and they know it.”
“Scotty does. The twins had it better with their parents than they’ll ever have it with us.”
“Well, of course they did. They were their parents. They’ll always be the A team. But you guys make for a damned good B team, if you ask me.”
“That’s nice of you to say. Thanks. I have a lot of insecurities where they’re concerned. Their mother was incredible. She was the craft mom, the baking mom, the playdate mom, the room mom. And then there’s me.”
“You love them. That’s all they need.”
“I hope so.”
“So what’s our plan?”
Sam thought about that for a minute. “I want you to go find Mark Townsend’s wife and interview her. I’ll jump on the Metro back to HQ to do the interviews with Ken McLeod and Realtor Barbie.”
“Ohh, Mom’s letting me take the car.”
“Don’t let anything happen to it.”
Rolling his eyes, he took the keys from her and got into the driver’s seat. “You know it’s going to be, like, thirty minutes on the train, right?”
“I’m aware of that, but thanks for letting me know.”
“You could go with the Secret Service.”
Sam had almost forgotten about her detail. “Ugh, no way. I’m not giving them the satisfaction.”
“You realize there’ll be actual people on the train, right?”
He was so fresh, but also so funny. “Yes, I’ve heard that others often use the Metro. But again, thanks for checking.”
“And you understand that those people will be staring at you and wondering what the hell the second lady is doing on public transportation, correct?”
“For fuck’s sake, Freddie. Shut up!”
He cracked up laughing. “Oh, to be a fly on that wall. Take the Red Line to Gallery Place and then the Yellow Line one stop to National Archives.”
“How do you know this by heart?”
“Um, because I grew up here and have been riding the Metro my whole life?”
“I grew up here, too, but I don’t know the Metro map by heart.”
“There’s so much I could say to that, but I’ll refrain out of respect for my superior officer.”
“Good call, grasshopper.”
“When do I get to graduate from grasshopper to murder hornet or something cool?”
“You’re not there yet. You might be approaching mosquito status in the near future.” Sam had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at her own joke. That was a good one, if she did say so herself.
“I can hear you trying not to laugh,” he said.
Sam hated when people knew her so well that she couldn’t get away with anything. “You gotta admit… It was a good joke.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes, it was.”
They bickered all the way to the Rockville station, where he pulled into the Kiss & Ride lot.
“Get out,” he said.
She glared at him. “Watch your mouth, Detective Mosquito. You know what we’re after with Townsend’s wife, right?”
“Duh, yes, I think I can handle it.”
“Bring me back a thread to pull, and I’ll consider making you a yellow jacket.”
He snorted. “Gee, thanks.”
“I think yellow would look good on you, grasshopper. Don’t get shot or anything when you’re without supervision.”
“I’ll try my best not to.”
Sam felt reluctant to leave him for some reason, which she immediately shrugged off as silly. He was a well-trained police officer, thanks in large part to her. He’d be fine. He’d better be, she thought as he drove off, and she headed inside to hitch a ride downtown on the Metro.